A Chris-Mas Carol
by Stereotypical Vampire
Summary: After flinging Jo off of the island via the Hurl of Shame, Chris heads to bed, but his precious beauty-sleep is halted by the visitation of three Christmas ghosts! Will the ghosts teach this host a lesson, or will they scare him right out of his nightgown? A fun 3-chapter Christmas Present for all my readers! ;)
1. The Ghost of Christmas Past

_**~A/N~ Twas a while before Christmas, and all throughout Fanfiction, not an Author was siring, not even the Trollers. The stockings were hung above the computer with care, in hopes that...OH MY GOSH ARE THOSE GHOSTS?!**_

 _ **Hello readers of Fanfiction! I'm ecstatic to present to you A Chris-Mas Carol! This will be a three-chapter story with updates coming at you during the middle of December, and towards the end of the Holiday month. Chapters most likely won't be very long, but I just thought I'd give you a fun little Christmas present ;)**_

 _ **Now, I know it's just the beginning of December, but Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, have a Captivating Kwanza, Feliz Navidad, Las Posadas, and Happy Holidays! (Apologies if I forgot a holiday!) ;)**_

* * *

 _(Chapter 1- The Ghost of Christmas Past)_

"Elimination Time!" Chris declared as a shot of the Total Drama Revenge of the Island bonfire pit was shown. The five remaining contestants, Cameron, Zoey, Scott, Jo, and Lightning sat on the first five seats behind the bonfire. Chris stood behind his oil drum, and Chef was next to him in a yellow hazmat suit, the Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom in a large box in his hands. "Cameron, you took out Heather, so you're safe. But the rest of you are on the chopping block!"

Frogs and some nightly bugs made their noises as the fire flickered from the bonfire and the tiki torches surrounding the ceremony. Cameron was shown holding his marshmallow with a smile on his face.

"Regular marshmallow means you're safe! Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom means you're out, _and_ probably mutated." Chris said without a care. "Zoey...you're safe." Zoey let out a happy gasp and eagerly caught her marshmallow.

"Scott, also safe," Chris said, tossing the annoyed dirt farmer a marshmallow, "And, with two votes against, the Toxic Marshmallow of Loserdom goes to..."

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"Jo!" Chris pointed in the direction of the female athlete. Jo's eyes widened and she ducked just in time as Chef tossed the toxic marshmallow over her head, sinking into the dirt behind her.

"I deserve to win this!" Jo shouted. "You traitor, you backstabber-" She snapped at Cameron, pointing a finger and then getting ready to punch. However, before she could do so, Chef pulled her away, much to Cameron's relief.

"Ah! I learned from the best." Cameron said happily, pointing back at the jockette who was being dragged away by Chef, still in his hazmat suit.

"You– you know, you're right." She said, starting to smile. "Nice technique kid!" She gave him a thumbs up. "But _you!_ You're an idiot! You couldn't even tell I was a girl!" She snapped at Lightning, pointing an accusing finger at him.

He gave a confused look. "You're _WHAT?!_ " He cried in utter shock.

* * *

The camera flashed to Jo sitting angrily in the Hurl of Shame, her arms crossed. "Any last words to your fellow competitors?" Chris asked.

"Yeah! In your face Light- _NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!_ " She screamed as Chef pulled the lever, launching her into the starry night sky.

The camera zoomed in on Chris's face. "And then there were four! Who will win the million? Who will get crushed while millions watch and laugh," He said, getting up in the camera, "Find out next time, on Total...Drama...Revenge of the Island!" He said as the camera zoomed out on the island with each pause.

"That's a wrap!" Chris said as a clap-board was was snapped in front of the camera. "Excellent work if I do say so myself." He grinned. With that, the host turned around and headed back to his trailer, whistling the Total Drama theme song.

After a short walk, he was finally at his secret cast trailer, away from the grimy, mutated camp Wawanakwa. He yanked open the trailer door and walked up the stairs and right in.

Inside was not what you might expect from a usual trailer. There was somehow a fireplace on the far end with a flat-screen TV above and recliner sitting in front of it, a carpet on the floor. The fire crackled, illuminating the room for a short period until Chris flipped on the lights. His bed with perfect Egyptian cotton bed-sheets sat near the recliner, just close enough that he could watch TV in bed if he wanted to. On the side of the room where he had entered was a small kitchen with cabinets, a fridge, a stove, a microwave, and a small counter with two chairs at it. He could make food if he wanted, but he usually left that to the caterers.

Little would any of the contestants, nor the viewing audience know, it was actually Christmas time during this season. However, due to the radiation from the island, the snow melted before it could even land, resulting in an almost eternal-summer experience on the Island. Without snow and any sign of Christmas decorations, the place looked like it took place during the summer, just like the first season, but in reality, it was cold winter time.

"What is _this_ doing here?!" Chris wondered with disgust. He ripped a wreath from above the TV and opened the door, throwing it out. He slammed the door shut. "Ba-humbug!" He snarled.

Suddenly, there was a metallic knock on the door. "What now?" The host complained, storming over to the door and yanking it open. "What do you want?"

It was one of the cameramen. He gulped. "Uh, I just was wondering, could I maybe have a raise? My daughter really wants a Dakota dolly, but I don't really have enough to buy one for her." He said nervously.

"Well isn't that sweet? Too bad, the answer's no!" Chris snapped, slamming the door on the man. He then went to the window and quickly peered between the curtains to see the man sigh and walk away sadly. "Greedy hermit." Chris muttered.

He jerked the curtains shut and went to his own personal coffee machine. He placed a cup under the dispenser and waited for the coffee to pour in. When it was done he inspected his drink. "What the heck? The foamy thing isn't working!" He complained. The host banged a fist on the coffee machine, but nothing came out. "Oh come on! Why must everything bad happen to me?"

He angrily stormed over to his recliner and plopped down, grabbing a remote from the table next to it. He clicked on the TV and it soon flickered to life. "Ugh, Christmas movies." He groaned. "Isn't there anything else on this time of year? Rancid the Red-Hoofed Reindeer? Lame." He rolled his eyes. "Chilly Billy the Iceman? Weak. A Chucky Black Christmas? Who writes this stuff?!"

He continued to flip through channels, not finding much else other than Christmas movies. "Ugh, there's nothing good on anyway." Chris shrugged. He flipped off the TV and slipped into his nightshirt, complete with a stocking-cap (not of the Christmas variety). "Ah, time for some well-deserved sleep for the world's most gorgeous host." He said, closing his eyes and pulling the sheets up.

Not a moment later, there was a loud, grandfather clock ring, but it didn't stop. Chris counted the times it rang, totaling up to ten. "Ten-o-clockt! Already?" He wondered. "Wait a second...I don't own a grandfather clock! Those are for old people!"

Suddenly, there was a gust of wind that blew through his trailer. "But I closed all the windows!" Chris exclaimed, looking around. Fog slowly entered the room and Chris gasped as a floating figure appeared towards the ceiling of his trailer. "Who-who-who are you?" He stuttered, his heart pounding out of his chest.

"Who do I look like, Mr. Hair Gel?" Chef barked. "I'm your co-host, Chef! Frankly, I'm hurt that ya don't recognize me." He crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Wha-but...you're not... _what?!_ " Chris screamed. "How are you dead?! You were at the elimination ceremony just an hour ago! What did you do to yourself?!"

"I'm not dead ya moron, I'm just here as a ghost to advise ya." Chef said. He was dressed in his usual cook garb, but it was slightly torn. What stood out the most was that he had several chains hanging from his arms and legs, attached to cinder-blocks that looked like they should have made him fall to the ground.

"Advise me about what?" Chris asked. "And could you hurry it up, I'm tired and you're getting in the way of my beauty sleep!" He snapped.

"Well excuse me for warnin' ya about the three ghosts that'll haunt ya tonight!" Chef snarled. "There's the Ghost 'a Christmas Past, the Ghost 'a Christmas Present, and the Ghost 'a Christmas Yet to Come."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard it before." Chris waved it off. "But I thought the last guy's name was the Ghost of Christmas Future."

"Yeah, well this is a different variation, so _deal with it!_ " Chef shouted. "They'll be here to show ya what a gosh-darn horrible person you've been, and that ya need to be nicer and less greedy. Oh, and use less hair gel."

"What does my hair gel have to do with being nicer?" Chris complained.

"It pollutes the earth." Chef shrugged. "Now I gotta go, there's a casserole in the oven and I do _not_ want it 'ta burn." He said. "Three more ghosts will visit ya tonight!" he said ominously. Before Chris could say anything more, there was a large wisp of smoke and Chef disappeared. The fog drifted away and the room was empty.

"Ugh! Fog is _not_ good for my complexion. Stupid Chef ghost, I'm gonna dock his pay tomorrow." He rolled over in his bed and closed his eyes once more. Of course, the ghosts of Christmas Time had other plans.

* * *

Chris awoke to the sound of light Christmas bells. "Huh?" He asked, groggily opening his eyes. "Chef, if it's you again, you can consider yourself fired!" He shouted sleepily, shaking a fist.

The jingling of bells did not cease, instead, it got louder. "Gah! That ringing!" Chris complained, covering his ears. "Where is that coming from?!" The host now sat up in bed, looking around his dark room.

And then, there was a light. It seemed to flicker around the room like a candle, but there didn't seem to be a source. First it was under Chris's bed, then it was by his TV, next the flare was by his fridge. It floated around the room until it came to a stop at the foot of the host's bed. "Uh, hello?" Chris asked nervously. "If this is a prank, it's not funny! I can fire you immediately!"

Suddenly, the flickering flame exploded into an enormous collage of light that seemed to sparkle and shimmer, and then, there was a figure standing at the foot of Chris's bed. "Dawn?" Chris wondered, recognizing the silhouette of the petite moonchild.

A few seconds later, the silhouette got brighter until a face could be seen. It was, in fact, Dawn. "Hello Chris, I assume you recognize me?" She smiled.

The moonchild was dressed in her normal garb, except she appeared to be on fire. Like a candle, her body seemed to be the flame, yet she showed no pain. And then, she floated from the foot of the host's bed and up to his face. She was much smaller than Chris remembered.

"W-what happened to you? I flung you off of the island several episodes ago!" Chris exclaimed, now extremely frightened. "You can't be dead!"

"Chris, you stuffed me into a garbage bag, put me in a catapult, and flung me into oblivion. I could have drowned, hit a tree, pretty much anything could have happened to me. How do you know I'm not dead?"

Chris was silent. "You're not dead! You can't be! The lawsuits would be flooding in by now!" He said to her.

"None of that matters, I am here as a ghost, and I am here to teach you a lesson Chris McLean." Dawn said to him. The host couldn't help but stare at the fire flickering off her body.

"Wait, why are you on fire?" Chris asked. "That doesn't make any sense!"

"It doesn't have to." Dawn smiled. "I am here as a vision for you, a vision for you to see all that you have done. It is time to show you your past. Your Christmas past." She said.

"No way! I won't go with you! I need my beauty sleep and no fiery ex-contestant of mine is gonna change that!" Chris snapped, laying back down in his bed and pulling the covers over his head. About a minute later, Chris peeked over the covers to see that Dawn was still floating there, staring at him, almost into his soul. "Go away!" He cried, pulling the covers over his head again.

"Very well," Dawn nodded, "But not before a journey. A journey into Christmas Past." With that, Dawn extended her hands, and moments later, she had brought Chris from his bed, he was now floating.

"Put me down! I command it!" Chris shouted. "You can't take me hostage! I'm the most important man in TV!" He flailed his arms and tried to reach for his bed, but whatever force Dawn was using, it kept him from doing so.

"Take my hand." Dawn instructed, reaching out her hand. Seeing no way out of this, Chris sighed and slowly put his hand out.

"Wait, you're on fire! Are you trying to burn me alive?" Chris inquired.

"Take my hand." Dawn repeated, no more forcefully than the first time. Chris gulped and continued to reach his shaking hand out. Finally, he took Dawn's hand with a wince, only to find out that there was now pain. "Do not question. Just follow." Dawn told him.

Dawn's hand was about three times smaller than Chris's due to her size, but this was not an issue for her. Suddenly, Dawn fluttered over to the window, bringing Chris with her. "What now?" He asked.

Dawn let go of Chris's hand, and to the host's shock, he was still floating. "You are now a ghost." Dawn told him. "But only temporarily. Only so I can show you your past."

"I don't need you to show me my past! I'm perfectly fine with forgetting those times! I'm on to hosting now. And smoothies." He said.

The fiery moonchild ignored him and cast a hand at the window. In a small burst of shimmering light, the window turned into a sort of cloud with a screen. Golden-lighted trims gave the cloud a joyful look.

"Let's go back to the first Christmas you remember." Dawn said. The cloud contorted with light for a short while until an image was shown. It was Chris as a child, playing with a small choo-choo train by the Christmas tree.

"I remember that choo-choo!" Chris gasped. "It was my favorite toy in the whole world! How did you know?" He asked, slightly fearful.

"It still is your favorite toy." Dawn said, ignoring Chris's question. She cast her hand over to Chris's night stand, opening one of the drawers with her force, pulling out a small wooden choo-choo train, exactly like the one in the dream cloud. She brought it over to Chris and rested it in his hands.

"How did you know I've kept this ever since?" Chris asked. "What kind of witchcraft is this?!" He cried, hugging his choo-choo.

"You loved this train with all your heart. What happened?" Dawn asked him, ignoring his question once more.

Chris stared down at his train. "I...don't know." He said quietly.

"Let's jump ahead to Christmas at age ten!" Dawn said, skipping ahead about five years in the dream cloud.

The cloud showed what looked like an empty orphanage. The floors were old and wooden, the walls slowly falling apart. There were rows of bunk-beds, all of them empty, except for one. Ten-year-old Chris sat on one of the lower bunks, all alone, his choo-choo next to him. The moon cast a light into the orphanage and the view changed to show little Chris staring out the window, sadly.

"When you were six, just a year after the Christmas with your choo-choo, your parents left you. They didn't want you anymore. Off to the orphanage you went." Dawn explained.

"I know my own past! You don't have to show me how awful my childhood was!" Chris snapped. "I don't ever want to remember my parents, or that cruddy orphanage!"

Dawn continued to look at the dream cloud as the scene unfolded. Ten-year-old Chris ran up to the window and looked out at a bright star, the North star. He closed his eyes and got into a praying position. "All I want...is a family." He sniffled. He opened his eyes again and looked up at the shining star.

The door cracked open a little bit and Chris turned to see the orphanage care-taker coming in. "Oh Chris, you'll find the right family one day! They just haven't come yet!" She said. "Now, it's time to go to bed."

Chris sighed and skipped over to his bed, climbing in and pulling the sheets over himself, his choo-choo in one hand. "Good night Meredith." He said quietly.

"Good night Chris. And Merry Christmas." She returned, kissing his forehead and then leaving the room with a sad sigh.

Dawn ended the scene so that the dream cloud was now just a cloud, not projecting anything. "Meredith was wrong! I was never adopted! I stayed in that orphanage till I was sixteen!" He shouted at the flickering moonchild. "I never had any friends, no matter how many kids went through that orphanage!"

"Did you ever try to make friends?" Dawn asked him.

"Well...no. No one ever came over to me. I always played with my choo-choo, by myself while all the other kids played together and got adopted later on." Chris said sadly.

"Is that what made you the bitter man you are today?" Dawn questioned again.

"I'm not bitter!" Chris replied. "I'm perfectly fine! I demand you leave me alone now! I've seen enough of my past, and it's bad!"

"Very well." Dawn nodded, drifting her hand over to the bed. Chris then floated over and was placed back into the covers. "Two more ghosts will visit you this night." She warned.

With that, she seemed to sink into the darkness, her candle-lit body extinguishing. The dream cloud faded away and turned back into a window. There were twelve dongs and the everything was normal again.

Chris looked at his choo-choo that he still held in his hand. "I'm scared, choo-choo. Are _you_ scared?" He asked the wooden toy with a whimper.

* * *

 _ **~A/N~ And thus ends the first part of A Chris-Mas Carol! I hope you guys enjoyed it, and while there weren't that many laughs, I think it was at leas enjoyable. This story will have some comedy, but also touching moments since it is a play off of A Christmas Carol.**_

 _ **I hope to get the next chapter out by December 15th, but updates on time aren't always possible with my schedule of stories, homework, and life in general, so don't panic if it's not up then, it'll be up around that time.**_

 _ **That's about all I have for you guys, so be sure to leave a review and his that Fav/Follow button if you didn't already! It is much appreciated, so thank you and Merry Very Early Christmas! ;)**_


	2. The Ghost of Christmas Present

_**~A/N~ And I'm back! Later than I would have hoped, yes, but at least it's here to spread the Christmas cheer! The next chapter won't be posted on Christmas like some of you would think, but rather towards the end of December.**_

 _ **Be sure to check out my other stories, Total Drama Unfinished Business and The Ridonculous Reboot for more laughs, drama, and suspense! Hit that fav/follow button if you haven't already and reviews are always appreciated not only for this story, but for those mentioned above! ;)**_

 _ **Once again, Happy Holidays, and without further or do, enjoy the second chapter of A Chris-Mas Carol! ;)**_

* * *

 _(Chapter 2- The Ghost of Christmas Present)_

Chris hugged his choo-choo tight as his eyes darted around the room. He had the covers pulled over his nose and his night-cap pulled over the rest of his head, leaving only his eyes.

A single sound caused Chris's eyes to shift to that spot and his heart to pound. It had been only about an hour since Dawn had showed up in his trailer and showed him his depressing past. He tried to forget, but it was so out of the ordinary that his brain refused to erase it form his memory.

"Choo-choo, do you ever get the feeling that you're being watched." Chris whimpered as he held his toy train closer.

Suddenly, as if on cue, mist began filling the trailer once more. "Oh, not again!" Chris cried. The mist got thicker and heavier, making it difficult for Chris to see his own TV!

There was a quiet chewing sound, followed by chomping and finally what sounded like someone inhaling their food. Chris turned to his kitchen to see a large figure rooting through his refrigerator. "Hey! Stay out of my fridge!" Chris shouted, shaking a fist at the figure.

The rotund individual turned to face Chris like a deer caught in some headlights, half of a hoagie in his mouth. "Owen? What are you doing back here?!" He snapped. "Didn't I blow you up last time I saw you?"

"Yeah, that kinda hurt." Owen said, rubbing his cheek where the explosive had been placed. "But it's okay, I'm all better now!" He said cheerfully.

"Sure, whatever, but what are you doing here, and why are you raiding my fridge?" Chris interrogated. He suddenly noticed what the loveable lug was wearing, a long green, red, and white Christmas robe with a crown of holly. "Wait, you're not another one of those Christmas Ghosts, are you?"

"Yup! How'd you know? Did Dawn already visit you?" Owen asked. "Man, I must be late!" He exclaimed, scratching his head and taking a bite of a turkey-leg.

"That's nice...now could you _stop_ eating my food!" Chris roared. "Speaking of food, where'd you get all of _that?_ " He asked, pointing to a large stack of food that was barricading the door. A large throne made of red velvet and white wool sat atop the pile of goods. "Did you raid the craft service's tent again?!" He crossed his arms angrily.

"I couldn't help it! I got hungry!" Owen whined. "I was on my way here and it was right there and...I couldn't resist! When I got here, I saw your fridge and...I still couldn't resist!" He cried. "I'm just like a dog!"

"If I had a rolled-up newspaper with me I'd beat you with it." Chris spat. "But ink is bad for the pores, so newspaper are _so_ outie."

"Oh thank goodness, I got scared for a second!" Owen chuckled nervously, wiping a bead of sweat from his ghostly forehead.

"So what are you here for anyway?" Chris sighed. "I'm guessing there's no way out of this?"

"Nope!" Owen said cheerfully. "And I'm the ghost of Christmas Present! I'm here to show you...well, Christmas Present." He told the malicious host.

"Presents? Where?" Chris wondered excitedly. "I haven't gotten a present since...I can't remember! Who brought me one? I'll have to take it from them and slam the door in their face!"

Owen slammed a candy-cane onto the host's skull, causing him to cry out in pain. "Sorry, Dawn told me to do that." He shrugged. "And that's not the Christmas spirit!" Owen chastised. "Hey! That's funny because I'm a ghost, and another word for ghost is spirit, get it? Huh, get it?" He grinned.

"Yeah, I got it." Chris said dryly, rubbing his sore head. "Just do what you have to do already, I wanna get some sleep!"

"If you say so!" Owen said. He reached into the pocket of his Christmas robe and pulled out a fistful of yellow, sparkly, glowing dust.

"What is that, pixie dust-" Chris asked and was quickly interrupted when Owen threw the dust in his face, most of it hitting him in the eyes.

" _GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!_ " Chris screamed, running around as his eyes welled up with pained tears. He ran back and forth, still wailing as Owen watched patiently, gnawing on a turkey-drumstick.

* * *

When Chris was done screaming, he awoke to find himself floating in the air. "What kind of sideshow are you running here?! First you raid my fridge, then you throw mysterious dust in my eyes, and now I'm floating!"

"It's time to go see how everyone's doing on Christmas eve, don't you know the story?" Owen asked him. "By the way, you've gotta take my hand."

Chris looked at the loveable oaf's extended hand and noticed some gravy, other bits of food, and some unrecognizable substances on his hand. "Ew..." Chris winced.

"C'mon, take my hand! It'll go faster if you do!" Owen said.

Chris looked at Owen's hand again and slowly extended his own and grabbed Owen's hand, hearing a squish and feeling something disturbing. "Yay! It's time for some fun!" Owen said, floating off towards the window.

"Uh, where are we going?" Chris asked.

"Somewhere _amazing!_ " Owen giggled. He flew through the window, passing through it without a problem since he was a ghost. Chris on the other hand smacked up against the glass painfully. "Oops...sorry about that!" Owen chuckled sheepishly.

Owen flew back into the trailer and slowly pulled Chris through the window again, this time the host made it through. "There we go." Owen grinned. "Let's go!" With that, he flew off above the trees, Chris being forced to follow.

They soared over the island, getting a bird's eye view of the cabins, Mess Hall, even the craft service's tent and surrounding trailers for the cameramen.

"So where should we go first?" Owen asked.

"How about back to bed?" Chris replied sarcastically.

Owen swung his candy-cane onto Chris's head once again. "Sorry, Dawn told me to do that. Again." He said.

"Yeah, well can you _stop_ doing that, it hurts!" Chris snapped, rubbing his head again. "Jeez, I'm gonna end up with a concussion tomorrow morning!" He muttered.

"Let's visit the interns first, they're not treated very well." Owen decided. "And _who's_ fault might that be?"

"Hey, the interns aren't really people anyway, they're more slaves. Besides, I'm not the one who funds their sleeping arrangements, in fact, I think _you_ had a hand in that!" He said, pointing a finger in Owen's nose.

"Yeah, I used some of the money that I won to help the interns!" Owen said. "Well, the consolation money you gave me for giving you TDA. The point is, I actually tried to help them, if it wasn't for me, they'd be sleeping on rocks!"

"Yeah, well the beds they have aren't much better." Chris shrugged. "Not that I care."

For the third time, Chris was hit in the head with Owen's candy-cane. "Let me guess, Dawn told you to do it?" Chris guessed angrily, rubbing his head again.

"No, I wanted to do that. You were being mean to the interns!" Owen crossed his arms. "That's not nice, and certainly not part of the Christmas spirit." He shook his head.

"Okay, is there a way you could teach me a lesson without beaning me with a candy-cane?" Chris snapped.

"Not really." Owen shrugged. "Now look! We're here!" The two slowly floated from the treetops and made their way down next to what looked like a very primitive hut made from mud and wood, with a hay roof and some holes for windows.

"Yuck, why are you cursing me with the unfortunate state of being _near_ this thing!" Chris asked with disgust.

"Do you want me to hit you again?" Owen threatened.

"Not particularly." Chris narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, so do you see how poorly the interns here are living?" Owen asked him, motioning to the inside of the hut. Three interns lay on makeshift cots of hay. None of them had much room, and they certainly didn't look comfortable. "You torture them during the day and what do they have to look forward to after work? This."

"Oh please, they get food at least." Chris rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but it's not good food! Even _I_ wouldn't eat it." Owen shook his head, pointing to the dog-dish in the hut that was filled with some brown, liquidy slop. Chris looked at it and his eye twitched in disgust.

"That's what I thought." Owen said. "I think we've seen enough here. Off to the cabins!" He said, flying up, dragging Chris with him.

"Ugh, how much more of this?" Chris whined.

"We're visiting the cabins, Playa des Losers, that one camera man's trailer, and then it's time for you to be visited by another ghost!" Owen said happily.

" _UGH!_ " Chris groaned.

Owen slapped him across the face with his candy-cane this time. "Can you _not?!_ " Chris shouted. "At this rate I'll be in the infirmary in a coma!" he griped. "What was that one for anyway?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to hit you again, it was getting kinda fun." Owen chuckled. "Plus it's kind of revenge for blowing me up a couple days ago."

With that, Owen yanked Chris along for another ride over the trees. He decided to go on a mini-adventure and pull Chris down into the forest. "Gah!" Chris cried, spitting out pine needles. "How come you're not getting hit by foliage?"

"I'm a ghost silly! The only reason you can fly right now is because you're holding onto my hand! You're still solid." Owen explained as he floated through a tree with ease, Chris not so much.

"Then how did I go through the window?" Chris demanded.

"I don't know." Owen shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway we're here!" He said joyfully. Chris and Owen came to a stop outside the cabin window and peered in to see Zoey sleeping soundly in her bed.

"Uh, isn't it kinda creepy that we're looking in on the girl's room?" Chris asked. "Not that I'm complaining..." He smirked.

"Now come on! That's not appropriate!" Owen said, holding up his candy cane threateningly.

"Whoa, whoa, I was just kidding! No need to get hasty now!" Chris exclaimed, putting his hands in front of him in defense. "Jeez. But seriously, isn't it kinda creepy?"

"I guess. Guy's side it is!" Owen said, still cheerfully. He quickly floated to the window on the other side of the cabin and the two looked into the window to see Scott, Lightning, and Cameron.

"Lightning wins the super bowl...yeah!" Lightning said in his sleep in between snores. He was hugging his tiny spoon of which he dubbed 'scoopy'.

"Okay, so what's the point of this?" Chris wondered.

"Look at them! Lightning's only friend is a spoon!" Owen said. "That's how lonely and sad he is in this place. Cameron is shivering in his bed, and Scott is so angry that he's stolen a tooth from Fang!" Owen told him, motioning to each player.

"Um...I'm pretty sure that's not it." Chris deadpanned. "Besides, that's the point of this show, to put them through harsh conditions. It's gotta be hard to win the money." he shrugged.

"Okay, okay, maybe that's a bad example. Whatever, it's off to the Playa!" Owen said, delighted. He pulled Chris into the air, going through more trees, most of them whacking Chris with their branches.

They passed a bear sitting on a questionably placed toilet in the middle of the forest. After they whizzed by, the bear peeked out from behind his newspaper and looked around. He adjusted his glasses and then got back to reading.

"Could we at least go above the trees so I'm not getting whacked every twelve seconds?" Chris complained, picking leaves and pine needles out of his hair.

Soon, they had passed the elimination area where Chris had flung Jo off the island hours ago. It felt like days to him. They passed the Hurl of Shame and were now flying over the dark blue water, the moon and stars illuminating on the shimmering lake.

"There's the Playa!" Owen said excitedly. "Oh, this brings back memories." He smiled.

"Yeah, memories of the _one_ time I went there." Chris rolled his eyes. "I've stayed at _way_ classier mansions and resorts. Playa des Losers is nothing. Besides, why would I wanna stay at a place with _losers_ in the name."

"Here we are!" Owen declared, landing by the pool area. There was a figure sitting on the poolside, their legs hanging into the water. The figure was the only person on the beach. "Say, who's that?" Owen asked.

"I don't know, I don't really pay attention to the contestants that much, let alone the losers." Chris shrugged. "Wait, can he hear us?"

"No, we're invisible to everyone else." Owen said. "I'm strictly here to teach you, so no one else sees us. Now, let's get a better look, he seems sad."

Owen and Chris floated over so that they were over the pool, facing the figure. "Hey, I recognize him! Isn't that Mike? He's got that MPD stuff! He looks sad."

"Don't care." Chris shrugged. "Can we go now? There's literally nothing to see here. Let's just get to that stupid cameraman's trailer already."

"No, not yet. Mike doesn't look his best. Maybe we should stick around for a bit." Owen said, grabbing Chris's nightgown as he tried to get away.

The two watched as Mike sat there, looking sadly at half of a locket. The half he had had Zoey's face on it. The half that Zoey had had Mike's face on it. "I miss you Zoey." Mike sighed, grasping the locket.

"See, he's sad! He misses Zoey! Maybe you should do something about that, like they get to see their loved ones or something!" Owen suggested.

"Lame." Chris rolled his eyes. "No one wants to see lovey-dovey reunions, they wanna see drama and action!" He said. "Besides, it would cost too much money to bring them all in, that's money being taken away from _me_ and _my_ needs."

"I don't know about that, getting to see their loved ones after so long might not be so bad. It would boost moral _and_ I think it would do pretty good in the ratings." Owen told him.

"Okay, but what does moral mean?" Chris asked.

"Oh, it's like people being happier and nicer. Also, they'll stop threatening to kill you." Owen pointed out.

"While that last part _would_ be nice, happy and nice is not what this game is about. This game is about bitterness, sadness, scum, and villainy." Chris retorted. "That's how you win!"

"If you say so. I guess that's all for this stop. Off we go to see that cameraman and then you'll get about another hour of sleep before the next ghost comes!" Owen said happily.

"My beauty sleep routine schedule is going to be _so_ messed up after this." Chris griped. Soon, Owen whisked them away from the Playa, soaring high over the lake once more, headed for the cast trailers.

"The moon and stars sure are pretty tonight." Owen observed as they flew back towards the island. The loveable oaf hugged Chris a bit closer, much to the host's annoyance.

"Okay dude, don't get creepy." Chris said, pushing away from Owen, but still holding on to his hand but for no other reason than to not fall into the water.

"Doot-doot-doot-doot!" Owen chuckled, trying to imitated a news bulletin sound. "We have arrived at our next destination!" He said in a train conductor's voice, pulling a fist down as if to make a train horn noise.

The two landed on the dirt outside of a trailer that looked similar to Chris's but noticeably smaller. The lights were on and shown through the window. "Let's take a look." Owen said, whisking Chris up to the window to peer into the trailer.

Inside, the cameraman was kneeling down at a window on the opposite side of the trailer, looking up at the North Star which shined brightly in the night sky. "I pray that I could get my daughter a Dakota doll so she'd be the happiest girl in the world! May everyone have a Merry Christmas. Amen." The man said.

The cameraman got out of prayer position and walked back to his bed where he flicked the light off and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. "See, all he wants is a Dakota doll for his daughter! You couldn't raise the price for _that?_ " Owen asked Chris.

"It's an expensive doll!" Chris protested.

"Oh yeah," Owen said with a look of doubt on his face, "How much is it then?"

"...Uh...like, 10.99." Chris replied.

"Oh come on! You can't spend eleven stinking dollars on a doll?!" Owen shouted at him. "That's ridiculous! You really do need to be taught the true meaning of Christmas!"

"Getting presents?" Chris guessed.

"Don't make me hit you with my candy-cane again." Owen threatened, holding up said candy treat.

"Please no!" Chris cried, putting his hand in front of his face defensively. "My beautiful head can't take much more of your torturing!"

Owen sighed. "Very well, maybe the last ghost can convince you." He said.

"Convince me to be what, a reindeer?" Chris remarked.

"No, convince you to be nicer and kinder to others!" Owen said. "At this rate you'll...well, I'll leave those statistics to the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come."

"Alright, I think we're done here. Can I go back to bed?" Chris asked impatiently.

For the fifth time that night, Owen smacked Chris on the head with the candy-cane, sending the host into a deep slumber. Owen sighed and cast a hand forward, moving the sleeping host through the air and into his trailer where he was tucked into his bed.

Owen had a look of sadness on his face. "It looks like he'll _never_ learn." He said sadly. "Well, time to raid the fridge again!" He exclaimed, suddenly turning cheerful.

* * *

 _ **~A/N~ Okay, so December 15th was a bad call, but hey, think of this as your Christmas present! At least I got it up on Christmas Eve, that's something! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, although I felt it may have been a little repetitive. Oh well, what'aya gonna do? With that, we've only got one more chapter to go through, as it is the third ghost's visit, as well as the rest of the story.**_

 _ **I'm hoping that the next chapter will be out December 30th, but you never know. Luckily, I'm off school for a while, so that should be realistic. If not, then the last day of December it is! Don't worry though, this story won't go into January, it's strictly December. ;)**_

 _ **As always, hit that Fav/Follow button if you haven't already and reviews are greatly appreciated. Since I won't be seeing you until after, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! ;)**_


	3. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come

_**~A/N~ Final chapter! I hope you guys liked this little Christmas gift and I hope it gave you some cheer during the maybe less cheerful parts of the holidays. With that, said, this fanfiction has come to a close and just in the nick of time too! It's almost 2016, can you believe it?!  
**_

 _ **As always, be sure to check out my other stories, Total Drama Unfinished Business and The Ridonculous Reboot for more cheer (Christmas or otherwise). Hit that fav/follow button if you haven't already and reviews are always appreciated!**_

 _ **I hope you all had a good Holiday, and have a Happy New Year! 2016 here we come, it's gonna be a good year! Now, without further or do, enjoy the final chapter of A Chris-Mas Carol! :)**_

* * *

 _(Chapter 3- The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come)_

Chris awoke with a monster headache. "Who knew Owen could do so much damage with a Candy-Cane! I expected him to eat it half-way through the journey." Chris mumbled as he held his sore head.

He looked at the clock on his nightstand. It read: _5:01_. "Great, just great! Only three hours of sleep this entire night and I've gotta host tomorrow!" He complained. "Can't a guy get some decent sleep without being awoken by three ghosts and repeatedly hit on the head with a Candy-Cane?"

Then he realized something. "Wait...three ghosts. I was only visited by two. Well, there was Chef, but he doesn't really count." He said to himself. "What was that third one?" Chris thought to himself for a moment and then it dawned on him. "Oh crap...the last ghost is the scariest one!" He gulped, already shivering in his nightgown. He pulled the covers all the way up and hugged is choo-choo tightly.

"It's the sounds of demons!" Chris cried. There was a small sound coming from the distance, but he couldn't quite make it out. It almost sounded like a chopping noise, but it was going very fast and was growing rapidly louder.

" _WHAT THE?!_ " Chris screamed as the window shattered, sending glass flying in all directions. He ducked into his bed, using his blanket as protection, albeit not very well.

The motorcycle skidded to a stop by the fireplace, totally destroying the carpet with skid-marks and knocking over the chair. The engine of the bike died and on the seat sat a lone figure in a dark black cloak.

The cloak was ripped and the figure was hooded, not allowing Chris to see the face underneath. It held an old wooden staff and basically looked like the grim reaper.

"Are you the third ghost or have you come to take my soul?" Chris asked. "Did I get a glass shard to the eye? Is that how I died?" The host was so panicked that he didn't even concern the broken window, he was too frightened seeing the figure on the motorcycle. It just seemed to sit there, motionless as if it would strike any second.

Then, the figure grabbed its black, ripped hood and pulled it off revealing itself. " _Duncan?!_ " Chris exclaimed. "I shoulda known it was you, ya lunatic! Did the grim reaper send you or are you one of those stupid ghosts?"

"I'm here to teach you a lesson, McLean." Duncan grinned wickedly, cracking his knuckles. The host gulped and pulled the covers over his head. "C'mon, don't act like a baby." Duncan rolled his eyes. "Dawn says I can't legally kill you or harm you, but I can still have some fun."

"That doesn't help at all!" Chris cried from under the covers. "Wow, I never thought I'd be scared of one of the contestants. But if I had to, it'd probably be you. Either you or Gwen." He said. "Well, Jo's pretty creepy too..."

"Shut up!" Duncan shouted. With that, the punk snapped his fingers and he, his motorcycle and Chris were suddenly teleported to a dark cemetery. Fog drifted across the land and several figures stood by a tombstone.

"What are we doing here?" Chris asked, annoyed.

"Just wait." Duncan answered, putting a finger to the host's lips to shut him up.

"I really hated the guy, but it's sad to see him go." Geoff said, one of the members at the tomb stone. The party guy looked much older than he had on the show, he was now an adult. He laid some roses bye the grave and stood there, not saying anything. Around him, Gwen, Trent, Bridgette, and Izzy stood.

After a moment of silence Geoff looked up. "Hey, who wants to _party!_ " Gwen, Trent, Bridgette and Izzy all cheered and raised fists in the air.

"Who cares about Chris's dumb grave!" Gwen chuckled. "It's good to finally be rid of that sadistic man. I hope he's having a fun time below!" She grinned.

"Now, that's not nice." Bridgette scolded.

"But you gotta admit, he was a thorn in our side for _way_ too long." Gwen said.

"I'll get the pizza!" Izzy shouted, interrupting the two. With that, the psycho-hose beast bounded into a orange and green blur and was off, the others behind her.

"Lemme call the others and tell 'em we're having a party to celebrate!" Geoff said as they left.

When they were gone, Chris slowly came out of the bushes and went up to the tombstone. He read it and his skin went white as he saw what it said. "Death date – December 25, 2015..." He gulped.

Duncan floated over, the hood now back over his head. "I'm afraid it's too late McLean." He said. "So stoked that I get to do the honors, though." He grinned maliciously.

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked nervously.

"It's Christmas day." Duncan said. Chris knew that this meant he was going to be dead any second; he had read the tombstone.

With that, Duncan cast a hand forward and the ground began to shake beneath Chris's feet. The dirt cracked and soon began falling apart. Chris looked down to see the rock also cracking and fall. Farther down there was a glowing orange light. "Is that... _fire?!_ " Chris shrieked.

Then, the ground beneath him gave way and he plummeted down, except that he grabbed a hold on the edge with his fingers. He looked back down and saw more of the earth caving in on itself and falling into the boiling lava and fire below. "Please! I'll do anything!" Chris pleaded.

Duncan floated over to where Chris was holding on for dear life. " _Long live the host_." Duncan bellowed. He then proceeded to step hard on Chris's fingers, causing him to wail out in pain, letting go. The earth grumbled from his grasp and Chris found himself falling to his doom.

" _Noooooooo!_ " Chris screamed, his last words echoing throughout the graveyard.

"I've always wanted to do that." Duncan grinned. He waved his hand over the hole and it quickly formed back into dirt, filling in the hole. When all was back to normal, Duncan whistled the Total Drama theme song and strutted off.

* * *

Chris awoke in his bed, sweating from the horrible nightmare he'd had. Or at least he hoped it was a nightmare. He looked at his clock, it read _6:50_. His eyes widened and he quickly jumped out of bed and burst out the door, still in his nightgown. "You there, what day is it?" He asked the cameraman that was walking by.

"Uh...Christmas day?" He said, making it sound like a question. He was surprised Chris was actually talking to him directly. And _he_ started the conversation!

"Thanks!" Chris tossed a sack of money at the cameraman. "Go buy that Dakota doll!" He said.

The man caught it and looked utterly astonished. He smiled and quickly ran off. "It feels good to be good." Chris breathed. He looked down at his watch and saw the time. "Aw crap! I'm gonna be late for the show!"

* * *

Chris now stood outside the Communal Washrooms with Chef, waiting for the contestants to arrive. He had a fresh pair of clothes on, and a fresh new attitude. "I think I'm gonna do something special for the contestants today, a sort break, if you will." Chris said.

Chef snapped his fingers. "Dang it, I wanted to do my challenge!" He complained.

"Chef, you _know_ the producers gave it the red light." Chris chastised. Chef frowned and sulked as the four remaining contestants arrived.

"Challenge time!" Chris declared happily as he began walking past the contestants. "And since you've been abused so fragrantly, and I've had a change of heart, today's challenge is a super safe _fun_ challenge!" Zoey, Cameron, Lightning, and Scott all cheered. "Get ready for bubbles, flowers, and cotton— _WAAAAAGH!_ "

Chris was interrupted when he was suddenly caught in a trap and hoisted into the air, getting flung over the trees by a pole and crashing into the Communal Washrooms. All the contestants winced, cringed, and let out disgusted groans.

"My snare—I mean _Cameron's_ snare threw Chris into the outhouse!" Scott exclaimed.

Chef quickly ran to the washrooms and opened the door. A horrendous smell wafted from the room, drips and fart sounds erupting as well. " _Oooooh-weeee!_ " Chef turned his head from the bad smell and waved a hand in front of his nose. "I need five interns and a fire-hose, _ASAP!_ " He hollered. "We'll get you outta there soon!"

Chris coughed, wheezed, and made other disgusting noises. " _Those ungrateful puppets just crossed the line!_ " Chris spat from the washrooms. "Remember your nasty challenges, Chef? The ones that got the red light? Yeah, the light just turned _green_." Chris hissed.

"I'll bring the pain!" Chef grinned, punching a fist into his palm. With that, he let out a psychotic cackle and thunder clapped and lightning struck. The contestants looked up, horrified, but found no clouds in the sky. The looked back down and saw three interns doing special effects. One was flicking a light on and off, another was waving a piece of sheet-metal, and the other was raising and lowering a tarp with a rope to make the thunder sound.

"Okay, _cool it_." Chef said, getting irritated. The cook led the four contestants through the forest to where their challenge would soon take place.

"Someone give me a hand, I'm almost free!" Chris shouted from the toilet. He was almost out when his hand suddenly slipped and he flew back into the sewage. He whimpered and began crying. " _Why!_ _What did I do to deserve this?! I said I would be good!_ " He cried.

Meanwhile, three people sat on some rocks near the backside of the washrooms. "Do you think we taught him a lesson?" Duncan asked, still in his Grim Reaper outfit.

"Eh, knowing Chris, he'll probably forget about." Owen shrugged. "But hey, he was just flung into a toilet." He chuckled.

"I suspect he will never learn a lesson." Dawn shook her head. "We tried though. At least he got some payback." She smiled as Chris continued to wail.

"Nice job stinking up the toilets, man." Duncan grinned, fist-bumping Owen.

"We should _really_ be thanking Cameron, the interns, and Chef for helping us with the special effects!" Owen chuckled. "Let's celebrate with a party courtesy of Geoff!"

"Dude, that was just for the prank." Duncan reminded him.

"Well yeah, but knowing Geoff, he probably _is_ throwing a party!" Owen told him.

"Fair point." Duncan grinned.

" _I WANT MY CHOO-CHOO!_ " Chris screamed from the toilet, causing Duncan, Owen, and Dawn all to laugh hysterically, as well as the interns who weren't doing anything to help him out.

* * *

 _ **~A/N~ So in the end it was all just a prank! Admittedly the story didn't go AS well as I thought it would into the Revenge of the Island theme, but I think it still did fine. This was more of a Christmas present/Chris pay-back fic more than anything, but I hope you liked it.**_

 _ **Once again, have a Happy New Year, and be sure to check out my other stories and hit that fav/follow button if you haven't already! Reviews are always appreciated for this story, as well as my other ones. ;)**_


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